


Pomegranate Seeds

by SleeplesslyInsane



Series: Lengthy One Shots [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Melissa McCall Bashing, Not sorry at all, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Sheriff Stilinski's A+ Parenting, The Mythology AU No One Asked For, We Hate A Lot Of People Here, but with a twist, but you’re getting it anyway, you’re welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleeplesslyInsane/pseuds/SleeplesslyInsane
Summary: The mythology au that no one asked for but secretly knew they wanted.
Relationships: Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Lengthy One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551577
Comments: 8
Kudos: 406





	Pomegranate Seeds

Stiles has always hated pomegranates. He felt you spend all this time cutting open this fruit, only to get a tart ass pebble stuck in your teeth. He would much rather eat sweet fruits like peaches, apples, and blueberries. Let those other, more pretentious gods chew on those rocks if they wanted to. 

However, his father loved them. There was never a shortage of the fruits on Olympus. His father would eat them during meetings. Pop seeds into his mouth when he went on his walks. Sometimes, he would eat nothing but pomegranates for an entire day.

Because of this, Stiles has had a lot of practice in growing the trees that the fruit comes from. So much practice, in fact, that he’s accidentally grown them in his sleep before. 

There’s nothing more annoying than waking up in the morning to a fucking tree in your room.

His mother had always told him that the reason his father loved the fruit so much was because that’s what she smells like to him. And they used to feed each other pomegranate seeds while they were together because there were so many of them. It would take them a long time to finish all of them and, when they ate every last one of them, he would go back to his wife. They had one night together where they didn’t have to use a fruit to tell time and that’s where Stiles came from.

Now, Melissa wasn’t okay with her husband spending time with other women. She knew he had bastards aplenty in every corner of the world. But to cheat on her with her sister? And have a child from it? She wouldn’t tolerate it. She wanted Claudia to kill the child and be banished from Olympus. John wouldn’t stand for that.

Instead, he promised to never speak to her again. To not spend any time with the child and to treat it the same way he treated his other bastards.

Stiles grew up only having spent a handful of short minutes with the man. He only knows about his habit of eating pomegranate seeds because of the fact that he watches him from a distance. Watches the way he is with the son he actually wanted from the wife he actually loves. He watches and he loathes and he wishes for the life he could have had. 

He dreams of living like humans. Of having no powers and being unaware of the petty bullshit that goes into their politics. He wishes he didn’t even know the gods existed.

One good thing that comes from him being of the gods and having powers is the fact that he can grow things. Create life where there once was none. Flowers bloom where he steps. His tears turn to seeds which grow into primroses and lillies. He can sink his hands into any soil, anywhere, and grow anything he pictures in his head.

His “brother” is a god of war. He kills things. Leaves bloodstained fields in the wake of all of his battles, Stiles made it so the fields would be filled with blood lilies. People needed to know of the carnage and violence that took place there and they also deserved a way to use that blood and carnage to heal.

The humans need something beautiful after all the ugliness his sibling leaves in his wake.

It’s not that Stiles hates his brother. He could probably love and get along with him if they spent any time together. Death and Life walk hand in hand. Without Life, Death wouldn’t exist. And without Death, Life would have no purpose. However, Melissa wanted him to have nothing to do with her son. Stiles is a product of her husband’s infidelity. He is a constant reminder of the fact that she wasn’t enough for her husband.

He could understand that. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t hate her for it.

His mother is the only god that will talk to him. He sees the longing looks his father shoots at him, but Stiles will never forgive him for giving in to Melissa. He will never forgive him for breaking his mother’s heart. Because Stiles? He could live without a father. That’s no problem for him. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that his mother’s smile doesn’t brighten the room the way he knows it can. Her eyes are dull, like a part of her soul is missing. 

And there is nothing anyone can do to ever make him forgive his father for that.

********

Peter has always hated pomegranates. He doesn’t mind the taste. He actually likes the taste of them. And he doesn’t mind the fact that the seeds resemble pebbles and are almost impossible to chew through.

He hates them because of the way they stain his fingertips the color of blood. After fighting against his own father and uncles and aunts in a senseless war that would cost them their lives, the sight of red on his fingertips was the last thing he needed.

He was the one with the highest kill count. His own mother was one of the gods killed in the war, though that one was accidental. The same mother that sang him to sleep every night. The mother that made him tea when he was sick and told him stories from her past. All for a brother that banished him to the Underworld as soon as the fighting was done.

The sight of the color always takes him back to the sight of it covering his hands and the light dimming from his mother’s bright blue eyes as she took her last breath. The look on her beautiful face is something that he will never forget and something he will never forgive himself for.

His sister decided to rule the seas and take her children with her. His brother chose to rule the skies and the rest of the Olympians along with it. But Peter? He wasn’t given a choice. He was pushed into a hole in the ground and told never to come out. Every time he tries, a lightning bolt strikes him right back down into it.

He forgot the way sunlight feels on his skin. How the wind feels through his hair and how beautiful colors are. The Underworld is an endless wasteland of blacks and grays with the occasional white sprinkled in. the Elysian fields, where he made sure his mother went, was the only place that resembled the world above and Peter refuses to go there. He can’t face her after what he did.

Life above goes on without him. The humans forget about him until it’s their time to die. The other gods hate him for what he did, as if he chose this life. His siblings no longer speak to him. He is a story told to children in order to get them to behave.

He is seen as scary when, in reality, he is anything but. He only wants someone to see him for his true self and not for what he was made to be.

He hears rumors of course. There are gods of the Underworld. His niece, Cora, is the only one of his sister’s children that still speaks to him. She is actually the goddess of spirits and ghosts.

She speaks of a god on Olympus that no one talks to. They treat him as if he doesn’t exist. All but one god treats him as if he is a burden, no one wanting to anger the queen. This god has the ability to give life. Flowers bloom in his footsteps. His eyes sparkle as if his mother took a piece of the sun and put it into them. Constellations dot his skin in the form of moles. He is built like a faerie, lithe and liquid in his movements.

He sounds like a dream.

Peter thought he also sounded too good to be true. Someone who could actually understand what he was going through? Didn’t seem possible.

But he would rather see that part for himself.

********

Stiles is walking through an empty field, imagining what plants would go where and how it would all look once he was done, when a chariot the color of the darkest night bursts from the ground. He turns to chastise the person, it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask what the hell that poor grass ever did to the man, when he is struck silent.

Never before has he seen a more beautiful person. Bright blue eyes the color of the ocean stand out from the rest of his face, seeming to draw him in and hypnotize him.

“So she wasn’t exaggerating. I think I’ll keep you to myself, yes?”

He’s so distracted by the fact that the voice sounds like smooth melted chocolate that the words he speaks don’t register until he’s yanked from the ground and pulled down under.

The world he’s pulled into is devoid of any color, black and grey spreading out as far as the eye can see. It reminds him of a rainy day, the peacefulness of silence and the smell of the rain as it hits the ground. There’s something oddly beautiful in it.

A gigantic three headed dog growls at them from the gates of a dark and gloomy castle and Stiles has to keep telling himself that this animal can bite his head from his shoulder and kill him without trying in order to keep from trying to pet the beast as soon as the carriage stops.

He can tell the man behind him is starting to get creeped out by his silence. He was just kidnapped and taken to a land he’s never seen before in a chariot pulled by skeletal horses. A lesser person would be freaking the fuck out. But Stiles has never been one to do the normal thing.

“It’s oddly beautiful down here, don’t you think?” He doesn’t know how, but he knows that was the exact wrong thing to say. Maybe it’s the way the entire place seemed to go silent and the air seemed to get a few degrees colder.

“Beautiful? This place is my prison. I did every single thing they asked of me. I fought in that senseless war. I killed everyone that got in my way. I stabbed our mother and that man, your father, trapped me down here, never to see the light of day again. Every. Single. Day of my life I am down here. Alone. So I’m sorry, darling. But there is nothing beautiful about this place.” 

Stiles has never been under the impression that his father is a good person. The high and mighty King of the Gods™ has been the bane of his existence since he started existing. But the level of animosity coming from the man behind him is something that will only ever be matched by his own.

“I get it. Trust me, I do. That man is the reason I’m basically shunned by everyone on Olympus. He and the “step-mother” are at the very top of my shit list. But that doesn’t mean this place can’t be beautiful. It resembles the earth when it rains. It’s the perfect stay in bed and read a book weather. Or the perfect weather to stay home and have sex.” 

Stiles shrugs like his words didn’t stun the man behind him to silence and neither of them says another word until they come to a stop in front of the palace gates. The cerberus comes up to sniff him and investigate the new person in his home. Stiles giggles when his breath tickles his skin.

He reaches up and pets one of the heads and the entire cerberus flops onto its side and rolls over for Stiles to scratch his belly. The overjoyed giggle that escapes from his mouth seems to stun everyone around and temporarily brighten their surroundings. His eyes get lighter and sunshine seems to seep from his skin.

He doesn’t know the effect he has on everything around him until he looks up and the man that grabbed him is staring at him, stunned still. He’s never been looked at the way this man is looking at him now.

His look of utter confusion is apparently very evident because he says, “You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? Not a single clue?”

Stiles looks down, a blush on his face, and tries not to show it. No one has ever called him beautiful. No one other than his mother. And now a man that kidnapped him and dragged him to hell is calling him beautiful and looking at him like he hung the moon.

It’s a little hard to believe.

“I know that, objectively speaking, I am an attractive person. All gods are. But I also know that, if I were as beautiful as you say, people would say it a lot more. You wouldn’t be the first person to look at me the way you’re looking at me.”

The man looks depressed. He looks at Stiles like he just killed his favorite animal and then brought him the carcass as proof. “You’re a very beautiful person, darling. I could tell you that every day and never get tired of it.”

Stiles looks down again, trying to hide another blush, when the mysterious man puts a finger under his chin and lifts it back up. “Chin up, sweetheart. The ground isn’t that interesting.” He takes a long gaze at Stiles and seems to make his mind up about something. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

For some reason, Stiles almost forgot that he never told the man his name. “Stiles. You can call me Stiles.”

He looks the man in the eye and it almost feels like his heart, after all this time, has finally started beating.

********

Peter’s plans for the day did not include kidnapping a god and dragging them down to hell. They definitely did not include finding out that said god is actually more beautiful than he originally thought.

It doesn’t seem possible for such a beautiful being to exist. And he doesn’t just mean in looks. Such an amazing soul has never existed. Peter would know. As someone who has seen very many souls in his long life, he knows what it takes for a soul to be truly beautiful. And this one is.

After years and years in this hell all alone with only his niece to talk to, Peter knows that his soul is anything but beautiful and far beyond saving. But maybe, with some time, he could become the type of man that this amazing piece of sunshine deserves.

It can’t be love this quickly, could it?

He leads Stiles through the gates, ignoring Cerberus’s whining whining behind them. The other god looks back and whispers, “I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

And Peter actually cracks a small smile. 

As he takes the other god into the gloomy mansion, he notices that Stiles seems to be taking in everything. Memorizing every single crack and speck of dust that he sees. “I would put a flower bed right there. Maybe a tree in that corner. I wonder if he likes pomegranates. Those are so easy to create.”

Is he really making plans for how he will change the place? “He hates pomegranates. Maybe try peaches or apples.”

Stiles turns bright, happy eyes to him and he looks like Peter just made his entire life. “Oh thank the gods. I’m so fucking tired of making pomegranate trees. My father loves them and I literally make them in my fucking sleep.” 

For some reason this is insanely funny to Peter and he actually finds himself laughing very loudly. A gorgeous smile blossoms over Stiles’s face and he looks like he accomplished something great. Peter has no clue why it’s so funny to him. Maybe because it was so unexpected.. For one, such language is frowned upon by the other gods. They can never be so crass and uncaring in the way that they speak. They have to be prim and proper at all times because you never know who may be watching.

However, Peter has never been known to give a fuck. As a matter of face, he and his niece are known for using the worst language out of everyone. And he runs hell.

There’s just something about being banished from the heavens and having almost no one left to care about him that really makes him not give a fuck anymore. There’s no one left to impress, right?

Certainly not the foul mouthed god he brought into his home.

“You know, a better person would tell you that such language is below someone of your beauty and station. However, I don’t give a shit.”

This startles a laugh out of Stiles and they stand there in the front hall laughing like they’re old friends that have known each other for years.

It’s been so many years since he’s laughed. He forgot what it felt like. And here this god is, making him laugh loud enough to startle the spirits hovering around. He’s so unexpected. Peter wanted to catch a look at the god that had the power to create life, but he didn’t expect him to be like this.

“Well I figure I’ll be here a while. Wanna give me a tour so that I won’t get lost and accidentally set free a bunch of demons?” the mirth in his eyes lets Peter know that he’s joking.

Mostly.

So he grabs him by the hand and leads him back out the door. 

********

Stiles has no idea how long he’s been in hell. He does know that he doesn’t miss the world above. He misses his mother. But he doesn’t miss the other gods and the way they would always look at him like he was the dirt on the bottom of their shoes.

There always seems to be a new thing to discover. New people to meet. His favorite person, after Peter of course, has to be Cora. it’s not often that he meets that can meet his sarcasm head on and give as good as they get. After her is a fiery haired banshee by the name of Lydia. She takes no shit and seems to know everything about everything. There is no question that he could ask that she wouldn’t have the answer to.

Part of him wants to set them up together. They would make an absolutely beautiful couple. And they wouldn’t look right with anyone else.

The same way that Stiles wouldn’t look right with anyone other than Peter. He’s the only one that can get the surly bastard to smile and speak instead of growl. The first time Cora heard him laugh, she threw blessed water on him thinking him possessed.

Moonflowers and lotus blossoms have become a common sight around the Underworld. No one even knew that plants could grow in hell. But every time Peter does something to make Stiles laugh or that makes his heart beat faster? More pop up. Plants and flowers that typically grow and bloom in darkness fill up the gardens and climb up the walls.

He was previously dismayed to find that he still grows pomegranate trees without even trying. But he’s discovered a new love for the fruit.

Peter won’t touch them. And Stiles won’t eat those seeds if someone paid him to. But he loves to feed them to Peter while sitting on his lap in the throne room, one hand feeding him the seeds and the other carding through the softest hair he’s ever felt.

They sometimes stay like that for hours until some duty calls Peter away. Which means he and Stiles go hand in hand to handle whatever it was that called him away in the first place.

The spirits have taken to calling him the Queen and he can’t find it in himself to mind. There are definitely worse things that he could be called. He would know. Melissa has called him plenty of them.

He embraces the title and does the job of the queen without complaint. He also teaches the king compassion. To be more understanding.

And to forgive himself for his mother.

Stiles learned about that the same day he learned why his love hated pomegranate seeds.

********  
He was sitting in an empty room he had turned into a studio. He loved to pain and he came up with designs for new plants better when he had paint on his canvas and completely covering his hands. He wanted to make something completely special and original for his love and he thought he finally got it right.

It was when he had the red on his fingers, filling in soft petals in the color of blood, that Peter walked into the room.

And completely lost his shit.

All light was immediately sucked out of the room and Stiles remembered that this was a god that all other beings were terrified of. A king of darkness and death that was not known for being the cuddly and loving man that Stiles had come to know.

“Where the hell did you find that color? I had it banished from this realm.” The complete calm of his voice doesn’t match the hell that his eyes promise if Stiles gets the answer wrong.

Now that he had gotten Stiles to think about it, he remembered that he couldn’t find the color anywhere. He had looked for what seemed like days before he had finally just said fuck it and materialized a pot of red paint. He didn’t think about reasons for there being none of the color anywhere in the underworld until his love looked at him with complete and utter devastation at the sight of it.

“I wanted to make you a flower. You’ve seemed so sad lately and I thought it would cheer you up. And I thought of the perfect color for it, but there was none anywhere to be found so I created some. I didn’t know that it wasn’t allowed and I’m sorry for not asking first. I’ll use something else.”

Peter must have seen the sad look on his face at the thought of using something else because the light returned to the room and the god was kneeling in front of Stiles with a remorseful look on his face. Stiles knew that he could use another color but nothing would have looked as perfect as the red.

“Darling, I’m sorry but the sight of that color brings back horrible memories that I would rather forget and I forgot myself for a moment. Forgive me if I scared you.”

Stiles wanted to know what memories could have possibly caused his love to look at him like that. He had never looked at him with anything but admiration before then. The curiosity must have shown on his face because Peter got up from the floor to sit next to him on the bench. He materialized a damp washcloth to wipe the paint from Stiles’s hands and so that he would have something else to look at so he wouldn’t have to see the look on his darling’s face when he found out that Peter was a monster.

Not sure how to start the conversation, he decided to rip the bandage off. “I killed my mother. In the war of the gods. I killed her. I stabbed her in the heart and watched the blood flow from her body and the life leave her eyes. It was an accident. Someone pushed her back onto my knife and there was nothing I could do to help her. I tried everything. But I am not a healing god. And when I called my brother over to help? He looked down on her indisgust. And then he spit on her body and told her she loved the wrong child. He glared at us both and left us there. I was covered in the blood of our mother and he didn’t care at all. I haven’t been able to face her, knowing that I am responsible for her death.”

Stiles was completely silent and Peter just knew he was thinking about some way to get away from him for good. There’s no way anyone would want to be with someone who killed their own parent. But then he opened up his mouth. “Peter, love, it was an accident. And I’m sure if you went to her, she would say the same thing. She wouldn’t blame you because there is nothing to blame you for. If there is anyone to be angry with, it would be my father. If anything, she would be as proud of you as I am. And she would think that you’re a great son. And she would want you to talk to her and tell her everything that’s going on in your life. She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for her death when you were the only one to try and save her. I think you should go talk to her and let her decide.”

Then he’d conjured a ruby red rose and handed it to Peter. “It’s the perfect color, don’t you think? Let’s make it mean something new. It can represent our love for each other. And our passion. Let’s not let it be angry and hurt anymore. Okay?”

And Peter took the rose. And raised it to his lips. And gave it a kiss.

********

The same rose sits in an enchanted glass shroud on the fireplace mantel in the bedroom that they now share together. Peter went to visit his mother in Elysium after that talk and she’d given him a hug and a smack on the back of the head for not coming to visit her sooner. And then they had a long talk and shared a lot of tears and a lot of laughs. She now visits them regularly and eats dinner with them at least once a week.

At that time, everything was perfect.

Which might be why John decided it would be the perfect time to ruin everything.

When the soldiers came, they had been in the bedroom doing some very impure things. Thankfully, the door crashed open before any important clothing was lost. Not so thankfully, they had dragged Stiles, kicking and screaming, from the palace and Peter hasn’t seen him since. The place seems too quiet now without his laughter around every corner.

There are still flowers everywhere. Every time he finds one, he wants to weep. But he has a job to do and Kings don’t cry. 

Even when their soul is missing..

The palace feels empty. Cora has been by his side in the days since Stiles has been gone and Peter thinks that if this is how he feels after a few days, he’ll waste away to nothing after a few weeks. Months.

Years.

Just trying to imagine his life without Stiles in it makes him want to break down and cry to his mother the way he did when he was first taken. She had pat him on the back and rubbed his head the same way she used to when he was little and crying his little heart out like it was broken. And, while it was comforting, her being there only made him think of the fact that she wouldn’t be there if Stiles hadn’t convinced him to talk to her. Everywhere he looks, he sees the influence of his soulmate and wants to go back to crying. He hadn’t cried so much since his mother died.

He doesn’t know how to get him back. He’s not welcome on Olympus. He hasn’t felt Stiles on the mortal plane since he’d kidnapped him that day so long ago. If he had, he would have grabbed him and not allowed him to be taken again.

He still hears the whispers. Cora and his mother are the only other people in the Underworld that know what really happened. Everyone else can only speculate. They say the King went crazy and killed his Queen in a mysterious rage. They had heard him roar in rage and the terrified cries of his mate and automatically assumed the worst. 

He doesn’t correct them.

He sits, lonely on the throne that he never wanted, and waits for his heart to walk back through the doors.

Even though he knows that it won’t happen.

He hopes.

********

Stiles was taken from the arms of his lover and thrown at the feet of his father and his bitch and he hasn’t said a single word to anyone since he left the Underworld.

And he hasn’t grown a single pomegranate tree.

His mother waited outside his door the first few days, shooing the guards away on some errand that she knew would keep them away for a few hours, and tried to talk him into at least speaking to her. Telling him how she missed him and how she was so glad that he was back and how he didn’t really want to be with that monster anyway. She tries to push him at Lydia, the goddess of love and vanity, on the first day and he’d almost strangled her with vines in his anger. 

After that, she didn’t try to set him up with anyone else. He doesn’t want anyone if they aren’t his Peter. They will never be his Peter.

His father keeps a tight watch over him. He can’t turn over in his bed without the man being aware of his movement. Stiles doesn’t know why he brought him back here to not talk to him or acknowledge his existence and hate him from a distance because Melissa still despises him being alive.

He tried to sneak out the first day when everyone was asleep, but his father caught him at the door and told him that if he ever tried it again, he would kill Peter and make Stiles watch.

He described, in detail, how he would cut his throat and let him bleed out on the floor of the Olympian throne room with every god in attendance to watch. 

He dreams about their time together. He can still feel Peter’s lips descending his body, feather light, breath setting his nerves on fire. He was hyperaware of every point that their bodies were connected. The first time they were truly together was a magical moment that he will savor forever. Every single time is ingrained in his memory the way nothing else will ever again be.

He hears a knock on his door and someone comes in without him telling them to enter. The last thing he wants is company but, since it’s his mother, he’ll tolerate it.

“He’s abused his power. You are my son. I should never have allowed myself to love him, but I do remember what it’s like. I also remember what it felt like to be forced apart from him. It feels like a part of my soul is missing. Like I’ll never be whole again. I won’t stand for my baby to feel like that too. Come with me. He won’t find us and your beloved is in no danger.”

He grabs her hand and she leads him down the hall, going in the direction opposite to the one he had previously used to try and escape.

Once he’s in her room, she takes him through the door to what is usually her bathroom. But once he’s through, he’s back in the throne room where he would stand behind her in complete silence and wish to be anywhere but there. He turns to ask her what the hell she brought him there for, but she’s no longer there.

Instead, Peter is sitting on his throne that had only ever been there for decoration. No one other than the oldest gods that participated in the war had ever seen what the king of the Underworld looked like. No one until Stiles.

He doesn’t even know that he’s running at him until Peter stands up and catches him in his arms. Looking into his eyes, it’s like Stiles never left. And when they kiss, the entire universe falls away and there’s nothing but them left.

It’s not until his mother clears her throat that he remembers that they have an audience.

“Speed this up guys. You don’t have all day. John could show up at any moment and I don’t want you to be here when he does.” He can hear the fear in her voice and he hates the fact that his father put it there.

“Too late.” They all jump at the sudden appearance of Stiles’s father sitting on his throne. He glares at them all and there is a lightning bolt laying across his lap, ready to be thrown. The look on his face promises pain.

“No. no John, you don’t get to do this. Not to my son. Why can’t you just let him be happy? Huh? What is so wrong with him finding someone and loving them? Are you jealous that you can’t be with who you really want to be with? Because you had your chance with me John. and you blew it. Don’t try and blow this for my son too. I promise you I will not hesitate to kill you. Because nothing will stand in the way of my child being happy. Not even you.”

She puts her hands behind her back and makes a shooing motion, letting them know that she’s stalling and trying to buy them the time to escape. As true as her speech is, she’s never talked so much. To anyone.

Peter grabs him and is trying to take him back, but Stiles refuses to leave his mother at the mercy of his father. Not after what she’s done to help them and not after the way his father has treated her in the past.

“Not without her. You’ve got your mom back Peter. Let me have mine.”

He can tell Peter doesn’t want to. But he lets Stiles run forward and grab her hand before he takes them to the Underworld. The last thing he sees of Olyumpus is his father’s angry face as he jumps from his seat and reaches for Claudia in a futile attempt to force her to stay. She waves goodbye to him with a sad smile before they all disappear to go back where they belong.

Back home.

As soon as his feet touch the floor, a pomegranate tree sprouts up from the ground. Right in the middle of the throne room. He picks one of the many pomegranates from the tree and hold it out to Peter.

“Are you hungry, dear?”

Peter smiles at him, eyes sparkling and a smile on his face that hasn’t been seen at all in the time that Stiles had been gone.

“For that? Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This was just something I wrote in between working on my other stories to keep from getting so stressed out I scream. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
